Page 4 of Call Me Sir

“Creep,” I mutter, turning to my computer to clock in.

Speak of the devil.

I open my email and see an instant message from my boss.

Salvatore A: Will you come to my office?

What does this guy want?

Calmly I stand and stroll over to the office door.

I know no one else in the office is paying attention. We all get along but we’re not too invested in each other’s business. Well, besides Anthony and me. But we’ve worked together here for two years whereas everyone else is pretty new. Except the boss.

I knock on the door, resenting the lump in my throat.

“Come in,” his deep voice says.

I obey and am surprised to find him with dark framed glasses typing something up.

“Close the door and have a seat.”

Again, I do as I’m told, the whole time wondering if he’s about to ridicule me for what I do off the premises.

“Sorry, one moment.”

The word sorry doesn’t sound right coming from him.

After a few more clacks, he leans back and swivels his chair to face me. How does he look so menacing? The dude is wearing a purple plaid shirt and a gray vest. He’s dressed like a fancy grandpa about to go to the country club.

His sleeves are rolled up casually but I can tell he’s been working hard because I don’t miss how tired he looks when he pushes his glasses up onto the top of his head.

“Are you alright?”

His question throws me off guard. “Um, yes?”

Why is he studying my face like that? Like he doesn’t believe me? I turn to look out his little window to watch us and notice the blinds are drawn. How often does he close them?

“You feel safe at home?”

What the fuck…

“…Yes.”

My mind is reeling trying to figure out what he’s asking me.

“Alright. If that changes let me know and we can talk to HR.” And within an instance, his glasses are resting on the bridge of his nose and he’s back to his computer.

I sit there stunned for another moment.

“You can go. Your reports look great, and all of your client’s love working with you. Keep it up.”

“Okay…”

I leave his office trying to solve whatever equation he’s apparently worked through.

I sit back down and Anthony peaks around the corner.

“Everything good?”

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